


fallen

by cityscaped (touchofgold)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Mildly Fluffy, fallen angel! au, fallen angel! kuroo, idk what genre, mortal! kenma, slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8572930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchofgold/pseuds/cityscaped
Summary: kuroo tetsurou is a fallen angel who is trying to find his way back in life until he meets kozume kenma, a mortal





	

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this post: http://seraphbones.tumblr.com/post/142306246652/modern-fallen-angels-shivering-in-their-beds-at
> 
> companion playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/12122140004/playlist/1ViGxAfCdoVv0mbOA84dZo

“ _Please, I’m begging you, don’t do this-“_

* * *

  

            For every angel who has fallen, there is a reason behind their downfall. Maybe they were tempted by evil, or simply, because they were unable to keep their mortal alive. When born from a ray of sunlight, angels were destined to a life of dedicating oneself to God, or to be a guardian angel. Most angels often became a guardian, for it was a much simpler task compared to the ones who served God; and also, the easiest way to become a fallen angel.

 

            Kuroo Tetsurou had chose the life of a guardian angel- and what a task it was. Within seconds of making his choice, he was immediately assigned a mortal to watch over. The mortal was just born, a baby boy born to a single parent in a government hospital just outside Tokyo. There were many tasks to a guardian angel such as, to protect the mortal from danger as much as possible, to ensure the mortal does not fall into the hands of evil temptation and to be the mortal’s companion until they reached the age of 21.

 

            It was the most unfortunate that most of Kuroo’s mortals did not live past the age of 21. They fell into the most evil of temptations: suicide. As a guardian angel, he is only allowed to show his presence to his mortal until they reached the age of seven; therefore he is unable to present himself to his own mortal, unless he gave up his wings.

 

            He pleaded with the angels for one more chance. _Just one more mortal, I promise I can keep them away from harm,_ he had begged. But God was busy, and the angels were merciless. There was nothing more disgraceful than wandering about in the heavens with the guilt of dead mortals that one was unable protect.

 

            The heavens shook at Kuroo’s cries of anguish, as the sword of the heavens sliced Kuroo’s wings. Only a sword of pure gold, held by two angels was able to slice through an angel’s wings. His wings fell with a soft shudder on the floor, their ends where the blade meets the wing dripping with blood. Kuroo lay on the soft clouds, wrapping his fists around their softness one last time. His eyes slowly began to shut as watched his feathery white wings disintegrated into a pile of dust.

 

            The first few days was painful. Kuroo woke up in an apartment, with barely enough room for himself, in Tokyo. The angels had ever so kindly provided him with a lodging, for it was the only thing they could do. There was nothing to do in the day, except wander around aimlessly and shiver at the lack of clothes that he was provided. The nights were the worst, when the sky was a dark purple and the city lights dotted the sky instead of stars. Kuroo lay in his too small bed, shivering at the cold with an itch under his skin where his wings once were.

 

            Kuroo was not the only fallen angel in the whole world, oh no, there were many just like him. Many who have failed to protect their mortals past the age of 21 because they had deemed the world “too evil” for them to live in. These fallen angels live amongst mortals on Earth. Angels in classrooms struggling to ground themselves on Earth, angels in bookstores near closing time trying to escape from their new fate, angels in coffeeshops until midnight trying to drown out their own thoughts – angels everywhere. Kuroo had been fortunate enough to acquaint himself with two fallen angels who shared similar fates.

 

            He met Bokuto Koutarou in a coffeeshop near closing time. It was nearly twelve, and he had been staring an empty cup of coffee that he was only able to afford because he found some money lying on the streets. Hunger was a new, foreign feeling for him that he was able to put down until his stomach gnawed at itself demanding for him to feed it.

 

            Bokuto was the manager of that particular coffeeshop, and he had gently shook Kuroo’s shoulders when a jolt of electricity both ran up their veins. There was a brief moment where they stared at each other, both attempting to read each other’s auras when they realised they were both fallen angels.

 

            _“What brings you to Earth?”_ Bokuto had asked him, pulling up a chair and bringing a fresh cup of coffee for Kuroo who gulped it down greedily.

 

            “ _I couldn’t keep a bunch of mortals alive,_ ” Kuroo answered bitterly as the coffee he had drank. “ _It’s not my fault was it? The rules were simple: make sure your mortal doesn’t fall into evil temptation until they reach the age of 21. Yet they have the catch of not revealing yourself to your mortal in order to protect them._ ”

 

            Bokuto had sympathised with Kuroo, for he too once went through the same ordeal. “ _I get you man. It sucks doesn’t it?”_

            Kuroo nodded in response, wrapping his fingers around the coffee cup to warm his icy fingers. “ _Earth is just about the same,_ ” Bokuto sighed, tapping his fingers against the table. “ _There are rules dictating your life by some supreme overlord of Earth, there will be encounters of unfairness that you just have to shake off every once in a while, and the temptation of evil is always present._ ”

 

            “ _Not much point living eh?”_ Kuroo joked emptily but he realised these were the same thoughts that ran through his mortals’ minds. They all thought that the world was evil, and always against them, therefore there was not much reason to live anymore. “ _It’s been my few days on Earth and already I’m thinking like a mortal._ ”

 

            Bokuto chuckled lightly in response. _“You’ll get used to the mortal life. Sure there will be moments where you lay awake at night, staring at the sky and wondering what your angel pals are up to. Or how the wind felt beneath your wings during your off days. You’re going to miss the feeling of having the entire world at your fingertips – and that’s okay.”_

 

            “ _You’re a pretty wise angel if I may say so myself,_ ” Kuroo complimented. “ _Despite your stupid hair._ ”

 

            Bokuto gasped in mock hurt. “ _And I was just about to offer you a job here!_ ”

 

            Kuroo nudged Bokuto in playfulness and it was as if the two had been friends forever. “ _The reason why I am able to spew some of this wise stuff, is because I have been taught by a mortal that life on Earth isn’t that shit. You’ll find your own mortal soon, one that you can fall in love with. You will forget that you were even a fallen angel._ ”

 

            “ _Love?_ ” Kuroo raised his eyebrow. In the heavens, love was a fickle feeling, one angels were unable to experience and was only for mortals and the gods above them.

 

            Bokuto nodded. “ _Yes love. I know it’s hard to believe that a fallen angel like me could experience love, but on Earth, anything is possible._ ”

 

            Intrigued, Kuroo began his pursue this ‘love’ Bokuto had spoke about. Bokuto had even introduced his mortal to Kuroo, Akaashi Keiji, a young university student in his last year pursuing sport science. Had Bokuto been a mortal, he too would’ve pursued sport science, and even would’ve been good at a sport. Alas, Bokuto was still a fallen angel in his core and was unable to pursue such things. The angels who had determined his new life had already graciously provided him with youth, so what more could he have?

 

            Kuroo had never given much thought to love, and what is could become, for it was something never spoken of in the heavens. But like Bokuto said, _on Earth, anything is possible,_ and he was determined to search for it. His own _Akaashi Keiji_. He saw the way love could change a person, from watching romance movies that Bokuto had stashed in his apartment and reading novels. However, Kuroo was not that naïve about love, for he knew that the love portrayed in these works of ficiton, were unreal, he had Yaku and Suga to tell him that.

 

            Yaku and Suga were workers at the coffeeshop Bokuto managed. It was a miracle how those two kept him and the coffeeshop in check. It turns out that Yaku too was a guardian angel, but he gave up his wings in order to save his mortal: Suga. Suga has no idea that his friend now, and co-worker, was his guardian angel ever since he was born and was the one who saved him from dying in his house fire. A friendship had blossomed between Kuroo, Bokuto and Yaku from their mutual experiences of the heavens and between Kuroo and Suga as well.

 

            Albeit it being days since Kuroo was banished to Earth, he still missed the heavens. He would often wake up in the middle of the night, from a dream where he was soaring through the skies, his wings carrying him strong as he travelled to and fro the ends of the Earth.

 

 _do you ever miss your wings?_ Kuroo would often text in the middle of the night. Most of the time, he was lucky to find them up at the same time. For they would respond: _go to sleep_ or _yeah,_ it varies. Bokuto rarely missed his wings, for he knew they were cut off for a reason, and the reason was to meet Akaashi but there will be days where it would be Bokuto initiating the question. Yaku too, missed his wings, but he gave them up for a reason, and he never regretted it.

 

            Kuroo was lucky enough to be in an apartment facing the sky and the citylights. Those lights distracted him from his own memories of being a guardian angel; the cries of the parents of the mortals he failed to save, the mortals’ last words and thoughts before ending their lives, watching their anguished souls leaving their body with regrets coursing through their spiritual state. But those memories often left him shaking to the core, his palms glowing whenever such anxiety-provoking thoughts entered his mind.

 

            Even though Bokuto and Yaku would never admit it, they will always miss their wings; their divinity, and how much the world was at their fingertips when they were angels.

* * *

 

             As an angel, one can always see the aura of mortal or another angel. But as a fallen angel, it stings to see such glowing light. Mortals tend to have bright and glowing lights of silver and gold radiating from their bodies, if they lived a fair life without committing any great evil. Angels too have the same glowing auras, but they were in a form of a halo around their heads, along with fallen angels. Those who have given in to temptation, often have their auras tainted with purple or black specks.

 

            Kuroo had discovered many new changing things about his mortal body. First things first, he was still able to view mortal auras, but they stung his eyes like hell if he stared too long. Mortals that walked past him often shiver at his presence, and he knew that feeling all too well. It was the same feeling as a being an invisible guardian angel and having a mortal other than yours walk past you. His palms were something that was the same old, one all angels shared, and it was that his palms glowed whenever he grew anxious, remnants of his divinity still running through his veins.

 

            Kuroo never forgot his pursuit for love, one as selfless and as real as he could get. He would hole himself up in bookstores, reading differnet books about love. Occasionally he would pick up one about angels and snort at how unrealistic mortals had portrayed them. Nevertheless, he still read books about fallen angels, the heavens along with love. In a world where he now was a mortal, he had to get used to living a mortal life.

 

            He fell into a routine, one that would bring him temporary stability. He would wake up in his apartment and work at the coffeeshop until dinner time, return home alone for dinner, wake up in the middle of the night to reminisce about his guardian angel days and repeat. But one day, that routine was changed, _drastically._

 

            The coffeeshop was cleverly located within a walking distance of a university in Tokyo, meaning most of their customers were from the university. They would often enter the coffeeshop, purchase a coffee and a baked good or two, find a seat and study endlessly. One day, there was a student that picqued Kuroo’s interest when he first served him.

 

            The first thing Kuroo had noticed was his aura, and how blinding it was. It stung his eyes to keep staring at it, but it was so beautiful, so golden, so pure that he was unable to tear his eyes away from it. To compliment his golden aura, the student had golden hair that stuck out under his grey hoodie. It was evident that the student did not want to partake in any social interaction other than to get his caffeine fix.

 

            “I’ll have a regular mocha, with a little more chocolate _,_ ” he ordered in a plain, almost bored tone. Kuroo quickly scribbled down his order, took his money with his quick nod and rushed to the make that particular order of mocha, whilst seamlessly asking Yaku to take over the counter. He prepared the cup of mocha meticulously, making sure to add extra chocolate.

 

            The student had already been waiting at the pickup counter, scrolling aimlessly through his phone. Kuroo gently tapped his arm and he looked up, staring into Kuroo’s eyes. His eyes were slanted, and had a golden hue almost like a cat’s. “Thank you,” he responded, with a small half smile and walking away with his coffee. Kuroo stared after him, watching his aura glow ever so brightly even though he was moving farther away.

 

            Bokuto had noticed Kuroo’s flustered state and slapped his back. “Smitten aren’t you?”

 

            Kuroo scoffed and flung a towel at Bokuto’s head. “As if. I just find him, intriguing.”

 

            Bokuto nodded his head and returned to wiping cups. “Sure, I’ll believe that half ass excuse,” he replied. “Ah, those days when I was naïve about love,” Bokuto mused aloud. “I’m sure one day our dear Tetsu will find and accept love.”

 

            As much as Kuroo could scoff at Bokuto’s teasing, he began to realise that there might be deeper feelings towards that student. There was something just so _intriguing_ about him that pulled Kuroo closer and closer towards him. It was the same with his aura, so blinding, yet so inviting. It was the perfect description of temptation, and he was about to fall in its trap.

 

            “You must be thinking about temptation,” Bokuto had read his thoughts. “And I would have to admit, it is. But it’s too sweet, once you get a taste of it, there’s no turning back,”

 

            Kuroo pursed his lips in thought. “Then just avoid it right?”

 

            “But what’s living if we don’t fall for a little temptation?”

* * *

 

            The student returned the next day, and the day after and eventually Kuroo had memorised his timing- just before nine o’clock, right after the rush hour. “Follow him,” Bokuto suggested playfully.

 

            “That’s borderline stalking,” Kuroo responded, throwing another towel at Bokuto. Bokuto shrugged in response and hopped onto the counter as there were no customers for now.

 

            “Pursue what you want. That’s my motto ever since I became a mortal,” Bokuto shrugged. “Oh that’s right, I never told you how I’ve met Akaashi right?” Kuroo shook his head in response and Bokuto cleared his throat. Yaku and Suga groaned loudly and walked away from the counter and towards one of the empty booths. “Too long, you probably wouldn’t want to hear the whole thing, but I basically followed Akaashi to his university, fake being a student for a month until he caught out on me and we started dating.”

 

            “Wouldn’t you have gotten caught for faking being a student?” Kuroo asked, curiously, his mind already coming up with different ideas to pursue that student but his logical mind pushing them away.

 

            “That never really crossed my mind,” Bokuto widened his eyes at that thought. “Oh well, I’m with Akaashi now so that doesn’t matter. What I’m saying is that you should pursue him, while you have the chance,”

 

            Kuroo nodded in response, sighing and giving in to his advice. “Before I forget, I never really asked, how old are you?”

 

            Bokuto smirked and patted his head. “Three hundred,” he whispered.

 

            Kuroo’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets. “Three hundred?!” he repeated. Bokuto clamped his hand over Kuroo’s mouth.

 

            “Tell the whole world that would ya? Yes I am indeed three hundred, how old are you?”

 

            Kuroo stepped on his feet and shuffled about nervously. “Hundred. My kids never lasted past twenty-one,”

 

            Bokuto grinned widely and hopped off the counter. “You best call me _senpai_ then,”

 

            “As if,” Kuroo responded cheekily. “Owl head.” He stuck his tongue out.

 

* * *

 

            Kuroo decided to heed Bokuto’s advice and decided to sneakily follow the student to his university the next day. It was sheer luck that the student attended the university that was near to the coffeeshop. He had no idea who the student was, what his name was but his feet walked as if they knew the directions and everything that was about to unfold.

 

            The student had disappeared into his class and Kuroo knew he would be in hot waters if he had followed, so he decided to retire at the univerisity’s library. His legs aimlessly took him to the art history section, where there were thick bound books about historical arts, the history of art and etc. Kuroo began flipping through those books, picking those depicting angels to satisify his curiosity.

 

            He plopped the books quietly on the table and began flipping through the worn pages, the words blurring however, he was only interest by the artworks. A painting stood out for him, one where chaos was present throughout the entire piece. At first glance, he thought it was a burning inferno, but upon closer inspection, they were falling angels.

 

            Angels that lived in the heavens were often told stories of the angels of the past, those who fought as good, in wars against evil and more. These stories were more than mere fiction, and it was amazing how mortals were able to capture such warfare in a single painting.

 

            “I’ve been seeing you around, are you a stalker?” a voice piped up from above him and Kuroo turned around to see the mortal he had been searching for. This time, his hood was down, revealing more of his face, his black roots and his aura more vividly.

 

            “I like to call it coincidence,” Kuroo responded, naturally and he could feel his lips turning into a smirk. This was a new side to him.

 

            The student said nothing but set his books opposite Kuroo. He eyed the page Kuroo had left open. “Art history huh? Judging by your looks, I’m assuming, you’re majoring?”

 

            “Yeah. It’s a pain, but I really like art,” Kuroo lied. He could feel what were once his wings writhe beneath his spine, a lie. Even though he was now a mortal, his divine angelic past still haunted him from behind.

 

            “Really? What’s your favourite time-period?” he asked. Kuroo’s eyes flicked around nervously, and down to the page where thankfully, the period was mentioned.

 

            “Renaissance,” Kuroo answered. “Why are you so curious?”

 

            The student shrugged, setting down his books that had odd titles. “I’ve never seen you around before,” he admitted. “What’s your name?”

 

            “Kuroo Tetsurou. I just don’t hang around much here in this library. I’m mostly stuck in that coffeeshop,” he answered. “What about yours?”

 

            “Kozume,” he began hesitantly. “Kenma. Final year in law.”

 

            For the first time, Kuroo was able to carefully study his eyes and his aura. He had grown use to the blinding gold, but it was his eyes that he still was not used to. It was a shimmery gold, but there were deep and light hues contrasting in his eyes, making them resemble the topaz gemstone. It was a beautiful shade of gold, almost too beautiful to be real. Kuroo opened his mouth to ask him a question, but stopped himself halfway.

 

            His aura was practically radiating off his body, unlike an angel’s which was only a halo’s, so it ruled out the possibility that he was a fallen angel. Beneath his golden glamour however, Kuroo was able to notice small purple spots amongst the gold. “Why are you staring at me like that?” Kenma asked, his hair now tied up halfway to keep it away from his face with a pen half in his mouth.

 

            “Was I staring? You flatter yourself,” Kuroo teased and Kenma shot him another glare. “So you want to be a lawyer huh?”

 

            Kenma nodded, using a ruler to ensure his highlighter was lined straight. “Always wanted to be one. Just following my mother’s footsteps I suppose,” Kenma answered. “You want to be an artist?”

 

            Kuroo simply shrugged in response. “Art is subjective, it’s hard to earn a living out of that. Who knows, maybe I’m destined to work in that same old coffeeshop forever.”

 

            “Everyone gets to choose their own destiny, it’s just whether they play their cards right; that’s what my mother always told me,”

 

            Eventually, Kuroo was able to push their small talk to one where they got to know each other. It first started out as simple trivia and get-to-know the other questions that turned into a conversation none of them want to end. “You remind me a lot of my roommate, he’s bursting with energy, kind of noisy at the same time and mildly full of themself,”

 

            Kuroo placed his hand over his heart. “You hurt me sometimes Kenma,”

 

            “That’s what a lot of people say,” he shrugs, packing up his books. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he suggested awkwardly.

 

            Kuroo nodded and waved him off, before realising he needed one thing. “Say Kenma, can I get your number?”

 

* * *

 

            “Not only did you learn enough information about him for a case file, you also know where he works?” Bokuto spluttered. Kuroo nodded and grinned with pride. “Impressive,”

            “Coming from you, that is one compliment I will treasure,”

 

            Bokuto laughed and clapped him on the back. “So what now, you gonna call him?”

 

            “Maybe,” Kuroo waggled an eyebrow. “Who knows, what if Kenma isn’t interested?”

 

            “The thing about mortals is that they are easily attracted to beauty. I mean look at us, we’re beautiful as heck!” Bokuto boasted, patting his biceps and running his hand through his salt and pepper hair. Kuroo rolled his eyes and knocked him on the head.

 

            “You’re a little too full of yourself sometimes Bokuto,”

 

            That night, when Kuroo returned to his apartment, he slipped into a dreamless slumber. It was the most peaceful sleep he had ever experience ever since he became a mortal, and it was all thanks to Kenma.

 

            He began pursuing Kenma from that day forth. Kenma, who was a little taken aback by Kuroo’s sudden approach, was apprehensive at first, but opened up soon enough once they found some common interests (in which Kuroo had to make up because he was completely clueless about mortal life and only had one real mortal as a friend as guidance). “Hey, I think Lev might be in tonight, if he isn’t busy slacking off his work. Why not you join us for dinner?”

 

            Kuroo almost dropped his phone at the spontaneity of the question, but he responded with an enthusiastic yes. Kenma’s eyes lit up, a little like when he was playing a new game (from what Kuroo had noticed, Kenma’s guilty pleasure was games). Kenma began talking to someone on the phone in a mix of Russian and rapid Japanese that Kuroo was unable to catch up.

 

            “He’s Russian?” Kuroo questioned as they walked a couple of blocks further from the university to the university’s dorms. Kenma nodded.

 

            “Well, he was born in Japan so he’s not very good at Russian. But his extended family is visiting soon and he needs to learn conversable Russian soon otherwise he would probably be disowned,” Kenma giggled at his own joke. Kuroo chuckled at his joke as they climbed up the stairs to the dorms.

 

            “Kozume!” a voice piped up as soon as they entered. “And you must be Tetsurou!” Kuroo was taken aback by the person’s use of first names, and he was surprised that he wasn’t uncomfortable with it. The voice revealed to be a lanky and exceptionally tall man with silver hair and green eyes. Kuroo too was almost blinded by his aura, for it was a glowing silver with barely any dark spots.

 

            “Call him Kuroo, Lev. You barely met him,” Kenma chided, shrugging his coat off.

 

            “Sorry! I’m just very used to calling everyone by their first names,” Lev apologised with a pink tint on his cheeks. “Kuroo-san is it?”

 

            “Kuroo should be fine,” Kuroo responded, hovering awkwardly near the door. He neatly arranged his shoes right next to Kenma’s and stepped into their dorm which was similar to his apartment, but had more space. It was a modern dorm, compared to Bokuto’s place which had traditional paper doors and low(er) ceilings.

 

            “What year are you in?” Lev asked enthusiastically. “Kenma says you do art history which is super cool! I’m doing World History, which is a pain in the ass but I still like it.” Kuroo couldn’t help but smile at Lev’s energy. It reminded him of a mortal he used to look over when they were younger, absolutely bursting with energy and radiated the same silver glow.

 

            “I completed my degree already, so I’m continuing my masters in it,” Kuroo answered. “Though, I have no thoughts on becoming a professor.”

 

            “Neither do I! My parents just wanted me do to history so that I can run their museum company in Russia,” Lev complained. “I hate museums, it’s so boring like why can’t we keep the past in the past?”

 

            Kuroo chuckled but nodded in agreement at Lev’s last statement. “That is a valid argument. But it’s interesting, no?”

 

            Lev halfheartedly agree before switching the topic to sports. Kuroo had often watched his mortals play their respective sports in high school, in fact, peak in high school sports before they threw it all away for temptation. “So Kuroo, what sports do you do? We do volleyball, Kozume and I!”

 

            Kuroo looked over at Kenma who was preparing dinner with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t peg you as the type who would play volleyball,”

 

            “I just play, I never said I enjoyed it Lev!”

 

            Lev rolled his eyes and patted Kuroo’s shoulder. “He’s just saying that. You should watch us play a match one day! Kenma gets very fired up in a match, especially when it’s against other universities,” Lev explained. “Kozume’s really good and it’s no surprise that he had scouts in high school.”

 

            Kuroo’s eyes widened. Someone like Kenma, who enjoyed reading case studies and wanted to fight court cases in the future, had scouts in high school? He did not display much of an athletic physique, but Kuroo stared at him with a new look. “That’s interesting,”

 

            “Lev, stop bragging about my high school days. They are not interesting trust me,” Kenma shouted from the kitchen. “Now come over and help,”

 

            Dinner, least to say was the most fun Kuroo has had other than spending time with Bokuto in the coffeeshop. Kuroo almost felt youthful again, sitting at a table with two university students. _Students that could’ve been his mortals._ That sudden thought suddenly made Kuroo sick in the stomach, his chest tightened at the flashbacks that came unexpectedly. He pushed himself from the table and excused himself, standing in the bathroom.

 

            Tears spilled from his eyes as he thought about how young his mortals were when they took their lives. They were only eighteen to nineteen, with one almost turning twenty-one. They were so young, _too young._ Kuroo allowed the tears to flow, for it has been a while since he thought about his mortals. He never stopped to wonder where their souls might be. They would never be in the heavens, neither would they be in hell. They were ghosts wandering the Earth,s till trying to find their purpose.

 

            Kuroo sat on the cold tile floor as he let the tears flow out, keeping his sobs to himself. His mortals were always the most sensitive topic and watching Kenma and Lev interact made his heart hurt at the thought of the chance his mortals could have had. Eventually, the tears stopped and Kuroo splashed his face with icy water, hoping that he had not disturbed Kenma or Lev’s happy mood. Thinking about how jovial Lev was made his heart pang, as he wondered who his guardian angel was. Lev would’ve been the perfect mortal for Yaku to watch over, in Kuroo’s opinion. There was something about Lev that would’ve assigned him to Yaku.

 

            “Sorry about that,” he apologised. Dinner resumed on a more solemn mode, the attempt to make small talk was still there but there was a faint uneasiness hanging in their atmosphere. Lev soon excused himself after dinner, telling Kenma that he had promised to meet his girlfriend.

 

            “So, do you feel like watching a movie?” Kenma asked politely as a host. As a guest, Kuroo agreed and he saw a sparkle in Kenma’s eyes. “Have you ever watched the Harry Potter series?”

 

            “Harry… Potter?” Kuroo repeated.

 

            Kenma’s eyes widened and he leapt off the sofa and crawled to the DVD player. “You have never lived! We’re watching it tonight, you can stay over, Lev’s probably going to stay at his girlfriend’s for tonight,”

 

            Yet again the spontaneity of Kenma’s suggestion took Kuroo aback, but he didn’t refuse. He slide his phone open and Kenma happened to catch a glimpse of his wallpaper, which ironic enough was a quote from the movie series.

 

_We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on, that’s who we really are._

 

            Kuroo had discovered that quote whilst flipping through a book in the bookstore late at night. He had not remembered the title of the book, but he recorded it quickly onto his phone and made it his wallpaper, as a reminder to himself, a fallen angel.

 

            “You’ve said you never watched the series, but yet you have one of the most iconic quotes on your phone!” Kenma pointed out. “You’re one weird person,”

 

            Kuroo leaned back in the sofa and watched Kenma set up the movie. He was strangely enjoyed the more extroverted and louder side of Kenma, yet at the same time, he found Kenma’s introverted and quiet self attractive as well. Was this what love was? Kenma hopped back onto the sofa and wrapped his arms around a cushion as the movie began playing. Albeit Kuroo being exhausted, he kept himself awake for the movie, for Kenma.

 

* * *

 

            Kuroo woke up the next morning with an odd weight on his limbs. His eyes lazily opened to an unfamiliar setting. It was completely different from his bedroom setup and the movie was rolling through its credits already. There was still the odd weight on him and Kuroo looked down to see Kenma had fallen asleep on his lap, curled up like a cat against his chest. At the sight of Kenma sleeping, Kuroo could feel his heartbeat accelerating and pounding against his chest.

 

            Kenma looked so vulnerable in the soft daylight, curled up like a cat against his chest and despite him sleeping on him, Kuroo didn’t mind it. He watched Kenma sleep peacefully, his chest rising up and down slowly, his lips opening and closing in sync with his breaths. His eyes were shut tight, but they revealed teardrops clinging to his eyelashes.

 

            Kuroo had no heart to wake Kenma up who was peacefully sleeping on him. He reached for his phone, which was in his pocket that had absolutely zero notifications from the night before. He unlocked his phone and quickly sent a text to Bokuto. _Kenma is sleeping on me, what should I do?_

            Bokuto’s reply was instantaneous. _NOT wake him up. You’re a fast learner, after all you learnt from the best ;)_

            Kuroo decided to follow Bokuto’s advice, seeing as they have taken him to pretty good routes. However, Kenma thought the opposite and slowly began stirring from his sleep. He slowly pushed himself up from the sofa and rubbed his eyes. He looked around his surroundings, stretching his arms and almost fell off the sofa when he saw Kuroo. “What are _you_ doing here?”

 

            It was like a whole new Kenma. “You invited me over, we had dinner and we were watching Happy Porter?” Kuroo still fumbled with the pronounciation of Harry Potter. Kenma eyed him weirdly, crawled off his sofa and walked towards the kitchen. Kuroo stared after him, unsure of his following actions. It was as if the Kenma from the night before disappeared and in return was this cold, solemn Kenma.

 

            “I think you should go,” Kenma muttered quietly. “I need to be alone for a while.”

 

            This was _definitely_ a different Kenma. “Oh, yeah I probably should. I don’t want to overstay my visit,” Within a few minutes, Kuroo had freshened up and slipped on his shoes. But within a few steps from Kenma’s dorm, Kuroo had an odd twisting feeling in his gut, as if something was not right. Kuroo gazed at the door that was left slightly ajar for some reason, _what the hell right?_

 

            Bursting through the door, Kuroo could hear Kenma’s thoughts vividly. It was something new, something only the divine angels were blessed with but he could hear those thoughts in his mind. They penetrated this like they did to Kenma’s, thoughts about death. His own mind brought back painful flashbacks of moments before his mortals had taken their own lives and fallen to temptation. Kenma was no where to be found in the living room and that was worrying to Kuroo.

 

            He could hear the thoughts swirling in Kenma’s mind more clearly now. They were loud, buzzing, like a thousand voices screaming different things in Kenma’s mind; even Kuroo found it dizzying trying to listen to them speak. The dorm wasn’t very small, just a four-roomed apartment with a living room and kitchen, two bedrooms joined together with a sharing en-suite.

 

            “I thought you went back,” Kenma muttered quietly, wiping a stray tear from his eyes. The window was opened wide, curtains fluttering in the breeze and Kenma was sitting not too far from it. Kuroo’s mind suddenly dizzied again, even more painful flashbacks of moments right before his mortals took their lives. It was like history repeating itself – but this time, he had the power to change it.

 

            “This world is evil Kuroo, it’s nothing like that good or bad bullshit,” Kenma suddenly spoke in a hoarse voice. “It’s pure evil.”

 

            The voices in Kenma’s mind began to settle but it was the same words repeated over and over again. _Mother is going to jail._ “Look Kenma, the world isn’t all evil. You don’t have to do this,” Kuroo spoke gently and carefully. He was extremely close to the ledge and one wrong step could cost him, or even both their lives. Kenma glared at him, but said nothing. “There is still so much to live for. You have a purpose in life. You can pursue your dreams of becoming a lawyer.”

 

            Kenma’s eyes flared up in anger. “What do you know about purpose? There is nothing for me now, nothing to motivate me to become a lawyer. My mother lost the case, a case she has fought for years and now she’s going to jail. You don’t understand Kuroo, you never will! She’s _innocent,_ I know she is,” Hot tears began to trickle down Kenma’s cheeks as his voice broke trying to speak. “ _She lost the case._ Period. There is nothing to live for.”

 

            Kuroo knew he was entering dangerous waters, guiding his hand gently to Kenma’s arm and holding it tightly. “Kenma, the world isn’t dichotomous. There is no clear cut of good or evil. We will all have to carry the weight of guilt upon us,” Kuroo began. “You have so much purpose in your life, I can see it in your eyes, the way you talk so passionately about law.”

 

            “And what do you know about purpose? What would you know about good and evil? For all I know, you’re just the same as I am. A university fucking student trying to get through life,” Kenma raised his voice.

 

            Kuroo stared at Kenma’s now burning aura, purple spots slowly taking over his golden shimmer. “I lost that a long time ago, my purpose,” Kuroo sighed and Kenma’s face softened and his chest rested. “This is going to sound insane, but fallen angels are real. I am one.”

 

            Kenma scoffed. “Sure, and I will graduate with a law degree,”

 

            Kuroo inhaled and began tugging off his shirt. “I never asked for-“ Kenma was unable to finish his sentence when he noticed the burnt raw edges at Kuroo’s skin. His spine was charred and crusted red from dried blood that was never able to wash off. Feather outlines stretch across his back where they once rested after a long day of flying. Where wing met body, was now black and charred from the sword of the heavens.

 

            Kuroo stared back at Kenma, blankness in his eyes. “I used to be a guardian angel and I was assigned many mortals. The job of a guardian angel is to make sure our mortals do not fall to temptation, and live past the age of 21. Sadly, mine never did and I was banished to Earth.” Kuroo explained. “So yes, I do know what you are going through right now, because every single one of my mortal had the same thoughts as you before they took their life.”

 

            “I was never able to save any of my mortals, because that meant giving up my wings, and as guardian angels, we prided our wings like none other because the more mortals you were assigned, the bigger your wings were. Now, as a mortal, I can stop you from their fates. Trust me Kenma, hell isn’t a pretty place,”

 

“So _please, I’m begging you, don’t do this,_ ” Kuroo’s voice crackled and Kenma’s eyes brimmed with more tears. “I.. love you Kenma.”

 

The harsh wind shut the window with a startling bang, curtains trapped in between the shutters. Kenma stood frozen on his spot, hugging his knees tightly as Kuroo crawled over into an embrace. As soon as Kuroo’s arms wrapped around Kenma’s tiny body, Kenma’s body shook with tears. He rocked back and forth, tears flowing like a broken tap. “What do I do Kuroo?” Kenma asked, gulping mouthfuls of air as he cried.

 

“We’ll figure it out, **_together._ ”**

 

* * *

 

A breath of relief escaped Kuroo’s lips, thankful to have saved a mortal from a tragic fate. So this was love.

**Author's Note:**

> so i was heavily inspired and had to write and finish it today- otherwise i would never finish it. thank god that i did, bless. 
> 
> main blog: dearmalfoy.co.vu  
> chat w/ me: @DAZAAIS on twitter


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